High in the cold air, a gigantic snowy owl was flying over the Winter Army and the forces of the Empire. Keeping their distance, and higher in the air, brave mallard scouts kept watch over it, but knew not to approach closer. Nothing that flew in the night could match her ferocity, and their job was to observe. The rider on her back was bundled against the cold, only his eyes exposed as he watched everything below. The Duchess had no idea that the game had changed and the danger her forces were in. Where Glacia was distracted and a novice in the ways of war, Cragstone was a veteran raider who knew how to keep his opponent off balance. Already, packs of a one to two hundred mounted raiders were outflanking on the left and the right, while scouts kept track of the Emperor's army and sparred with Couriers. From this high his eyes could see for thirty miles in all directions. He made careful notations of all the troop movements.

An interesting development caught his eye. A convoy of supply wagons was heading up a road, moving at the pace of the slow animals pulling the heavy loads. But the two heavily laden lead wagons were pulled by humans. He recognized them instantly as workers from Gadobhra. The Baron was sending food and needed supplies to the Duchess, and entering the zone of combat. A large group of enemy cavalry was nearby, but would be encounter something else, allowing the supply convoy to slip past them. If things played out as he thought they would, the tribesmen would instead encounter a patrol of only ten light cavalry who were escorting wagons that bore wounded soldiers. They were heading for the safety of Wolfsburg, but they weren't going to make it. The soldiers would die, and the convoy of food would pass by, unseen behind a series of low hills. Luckily, he could change that to a better outcome.

Some of the less battle savvy barbarians panicked as he landed his owl in front of them and raised a hand in greeting. They might have attacked, but their Jarl, Brohk the Bear Blooded, recognized him and rode forward. Jarl Brohk rode forward, greeting the Beastmaster he had seen at the assemblage commanders, and remembered how Glacia had treated him. He was high in her favor, and if the rumors were true, the most powerful Beastmaster the north had ever seen. The owl alone proved that. Most animals, even the Snarlfangs, feared him when they they got close enough to smell his blood. Not this one. It was staring at him like he was a mouse it was about to eat. If they'd been in the north at the yearly meeting of the tribes, Brohk would have challenged the owl man to a duel. But not here and now. War was serious business. "You have news, bird man?"

"Yes. Their are two targets near. One is lightly guarded, but of no strategic value. Wounded being dragged off to Wolfsburg. Let them go. It drains their army having to care for the injured and will demoralize the city to see broken men return. They will die anyway as we take the city. The other target is a rich convoy of supplies, and one of them is full of the magical sausage from the Baron of Gadobhra. With food scarce, I'm sure your tribe knows the value of that. I'd suggest you attack them, and claim the food as a reward. Meanwhile, I will scout out more juicy targets.

"You're giving me orders?"

The owl rider stared hard at the Jarl, long enough to say "I'm not frightened of you" but short enough to avoid a challenge or insult. "No. I gave you information, what you do with it is up to you." Without warning the owl spread her wings and leaped into the air, quickly flying away.

Brohk was cursing as he remounted. "Something really off about that guy. Made me want to gut him and chew his entrails. And the bird is worse. Unnatural. But to hell with them, I'm hungry. We'll hit the food wagons, then torture some injured soldiers for fun later. Who says we can't do both?"

His bodyguard chuckled and several said at once, "Both is good." The Jarl rode off, and his tribe followed.

Farther to the North, the battalion of mounted Rime Knights escorting General Glacia were experiencing some difficulties in their travels. The extravagant sled Glacia was traveling in wasn't faring well on the remains of the road north. And 'sled' didn't do justice to the opulent house mounted on runners and pulled by a team of eighteen reindeer. It was too wide for the road, and hard for the team to pull through the light brush of the area they were traveling through. She was disgusted at the condition the south kept their roads in. Huge ruts and sink holes were proof that no one had done maintenance on the road in decades. They would thank her when the harsh storms that followed her south dropped a heavy layer of snow on the ground

She had fumed at the delays and made a list of the people to punish for each one. The harness for the reindeer was in poor condition and was constantly breaking as the team pulled hard on it. Rivets popped, wood cracked, and leather straps broke. Everyone agreed that it was from the unnaturally warm weather of the southlands where wood and leather rotted in only years, not decades. The cold was following them south, but the leading edge of the army had to keep moving into the warmlands. The terrified grooms did their best, but the replacement pieces were in worse shape that the tack being used. All of it showed signs of rot and decay, and they could see that even the boxes they stored the harnesses in were rotting, with black mold growing over everything. To make matters far worse, somehow their large chest of leatherworking and woodcarving tools had never been packed onto the supply sled. The groom in charge of that task was left staked out on the cold ground for the wolves to find. He had screamed loudly, insisting that he'd carried it out the night before. If anyone believed him, they kept quiet. When things went bad, someone had to take the blame, and better he than them. They did their best with rope, carved ivory fittings, and strips of cloth, but they all knew that moving fast through the difficult terrain would cause the make-shift harness to quickly break. Glacia ignored their excuses at first, yelling at them to 'do better', but had no choice but to stop when the main yoke cracked in half in the early afternoon. After the annoyance of the first day's travel, she'd had enough.

"We camp here for the night. Prepare food, we will eat in the delightful weather. Bring out our best wine and let us celebrate the end of the war. For when I have this treasure in my hands, the end will come quickly." The Winter Council was happy for the small feast. Most preferred to travel as owls, but the skies lately had become dangerous, with enemy Beastmasters calling their flocks of ducks and geese to do battle with anything in the air. Not used to walking or any strenuous work, they had sore legs from having to ride horses and were happy to sit, drink, and relax. Glacia gave them one hour, and then rose to speak, her jovial manner turning to ice in seconds. This was another lesson from her invaluable book: "Don't let your allies or enemies understand you. Be erratic. Give into your whims. Make them fear you even when you seem pleased with them. Reward the guilty, punish the innocent. Never let them understand you. They will fear you more."

"Refreshed I hope? Actually, I really don't care. That will be your last meal until we arrive. You're going to be chewing jerky as we ride and sleeping in your saddles. But before that, we have work to do. This land needs more snow. Prepare a casting circle, we will pool our powers and call forth a blizzard to cover the area between here and Northguard with a blanket of snow to ease our travels and thwart our enemies."

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The Council looked at each other, then shrugged. It was not a complex working, but would take time and power and leave them exhausted with another days hard riding ahead of them. But none wanted to challenge Glacia and they understood how important this treasure was to the war effort. For the next three hours they channeled their power and brought forth the storm, growing it and moving it Northward, leaving behind three feet of snow on the ground, then freezing rain that hardened into an icy crust. The reindeer were bred for this type of terrain, with wide hooves and an ability that let them run atop the snow while pulling a sleigh. It was less helpful for the mounted Rime Knights who had brought there heavy chargers to the southlands. Each was as big as a Clydesdale with heavy winter coats. They struggled through the snow and plans were made for fifty knights to set out early, going five abreast to tamp down a trail for the others to follow the next morning. Two of the council, the newest members, were assigned to go with them. The swirling snow, so comforting to all of them, still made traveling difficult. The mages would use their spells to keep the party on a northward track as they traveled in the darkness.

Glacia stayed outside at the table, drinking the rest of the wine. Alcohol and fatigued took its toll and she slumped in her chair, asleep. No one dared disturb her. The winds howled and the snow swirled around the camp. The guard wolves around the horse pens howled mournfully, upsetting the Beastmasters. Their dogs were uneasy, but they could sense nothing alive and bigger than a squirrel around them for miles.

Freezing rain gave way to a different type of storm. The exhausted members of the council could feel it as their storm changed, and they lost any control of it. Greenish lightning crackled across the sky, and the black rain pouring down began to drain the stamina and mana of anyone it touched. For the Rime knights, in their heavy armor, this was a slow process that they could endure. But for the exhausted Ice Mages, it was pure torture. Their tents didn't keep them safe as canvas rotted before their eyes and the rain invaded. The little mana they had left was stolen and they ached from mana exhaustion. The horses began to panic, and the guard hounds were frantic. Anyone awake felt something horrid, a primal fear that started in their gut and ran up their spine to their brains, bringing fear and panic. The wolves began howling all around them.

Glacia awoke as her chair crumbled and dumped her on the ground. She was in a fury, reaching for her Stupendous Ice Stave of Smiting, only to find it missing. As she stood and screamed, her pavilion collapsed in front of her, and the panicked reindeer broke free from their hobbles and ran for their freedom. She was furious, still drunk, and confused about what was going on. Then her eyes focused on the lightning, seeing how the storm had been corrupted. Precious minutes were lost as she searched for her staff, not finding it. She climbed into the remains of her pavilion, searching for a box of potions and arcane tools that accompanied her. Finding it, she threw back the lid, only to be hit in the face with foul explosion as something detonated and she was covered in bat shit. She reeled from the box, tried to clean herself with rotting cloth and the rain, only find it mixing into a horrid slime that stuck to her like honey. Stumbling back to the box, she brought out her Stormforged Orb, a legendary item with but one charge left. No one had ever dared to use up that last charge, keeping it for the bonus to ritual magic and the +25 Intelligence that it granted its user. Raising it high, she dispelled the storm, and watched as an orb that had been passed down from Ice Mage to Ice Mage for centuries crumbled to dust. She had no mana left, and fell into the remains of a padded couch to sleep, still covered in the foul slime.

The Beastmasters ran to calm the horses, not seeing what awaited them in the night. Their bodies would be found the next day, their throats torn out and their bodies trampled by the herd of horses that panicked and ran into the night. The Rime Knights and their minions managed to find half of their horses by dawn, but they learned to go in teams. Six knights and two dozen minions had disappeared and were presumed dead. Shadows were every where, slinking in the darkness Everyone worked through the night, trying to organize the camp and get enough sleep to regain part of their mana. It was a long night, and was going to be a longer day, traveling slowly. Glacia had a small sled made for her, pulled by six minions. She fell into it and didn't move until nightfall, clutching a large book in her arms. She woke when the party made camp for the night. Killing three minions to quell her anger at how foul she felt.

They found the advanced party ten miles away, or what was left of them. Wolf prints and blood were everywhere. The bodies of the knights and their companions were chewed to the bone, and the carcasses scattered about. Oddly, their were no dead wolves. When told, Glacia waved them off. She sat in the primitive lean to they had made for her, studying her book by candlelight.

Miles away, Ben saw Chartok run into their camp with an ornate stave in his mouth. He dropped it at Ben's feet. "Oh, that was fun. And see? I learned to play fetch! It's amazing what people leave laying around. You were right, these are certainly paladins. They anger is incredible and they rant at the darkness expecting the darkness to bow down to them." He dropped the stick at Ben's feet. "You can have the stick, I'll trade you for those tasty chickens that your friend dropped off. He's such a nice fellow. I'm become quite fond of him."

Ben put the chickens in front of Chartok, who broken into their cages and ate them one by one. "My, I never get tired of this. My compliments to the chef, very tender."

The Courier had waited until the wolf finished before talking. When chicken was on the menu, Chartok had a one track mind. "Rolly brought some news. That group of paladins is heading to Northguard to get some ancient magical artifact from Baron Pennypincher. He's selling out the Empire."

"Ooooh, another stick to fetch. The game is fun when I get to pick the stick. I didn't like Butcher rules."

"Not a stick, some sort of small casket that traps summer. It might be able to freeze every chicken between here an Northguard."

Chartok froze, then said with a growl, "No tricks. Word of Honor, that is true?"

Ben put his hand on his heart. "Word of Honor, I would never try and trick the Champion of Sedgewick, and certainly not with such a silly story."

"It does explain their hurry. Well, we can't have that. Frozen chicken sucks. Time to get serious about this. Got any clever plans that you can explain to me in a smarmy voice?"

Ben grinned. "Of course. We'll have to be flexible and play things by ear, but you've got experience in this type of operation. It calls for more practice with putting on a synchronized ballet."

"You liked that? I was very proud of it."

"I and everyone in Sedgewick were utterly terrified when you showed us what was coming. But I think I like it better now."

"Well then, let's get to work. We need to have a full show choreographed and waiting to be put into action."